


In Hindsight

by Karlamity



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 365DaysofUsuk, American Revolution, Children can be strangely intuitive, Fluff, Foreshadowing, Growing Up, June 19 2014, Mild Angst, Rebellion, family things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 18:27:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2742599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karlamity/pseuds/Karlamity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred says and does really intuitive things that alludes to his eventual revolt against England.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Hindsight

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the 365 Days Of Usuk trope on FanFiction.net (for the date of June the 19th, 2014), I've just been really slow at uploading it on here.  
> Enjoy~

It had been a peaceful night thus far, and Arthur had put Alfred to bed hours ago. The house couldn’t have been quieter, much to Arthur’s chagrin as he sat upon the parlour chair reading a book and sipping at a serving of tea. It had been a normal night, thus far, and Arthur couldn’t have been more content.

Silence, however, is such fickle and elusive friend.

Tonight, sound didn’t wait till morning to make itself known. Instead it awoke with a resounding shriek; the sound of a child screaming his name. The book hit the ground, the tea cup was discarded, and Arthur soon held a fretful Alfred in his arms.

“It’s just a nightmare, love,” he whispered, carding his hands through Alfred’s hair, attempting to calm the boy down.

However, Arthur’s antics didn’t stop the child’s sobbing, nor did it stop the repeated whisperings of an apology.

“Alfred?” He whispered, “What are you sorry for?”

“For hurting you, Artie!” Alfred wailed. “For making us break. For the rain that it brought to your face. I didn’t mean to, Artie, I promise!”

“Oh my dear boy,” Arthur chuckled lightheartedly. “You’ve done no such thing.”

He smiled, pulling the boy into a hug.

“And you won’t ever have to worry about your nightmares becoming real,” he smiled into the boy’s hair. “Do you know why, Alfred?”

“No Artie, why?” Alfred sniffled, wiping at his eyes.

“Because, dearest boy, I’ll always be here to scare your demons away.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He smiled, tucking the boy back in. “Now go back to sleep love, I’ll be here when you awake.”

And in moments the young nation fell back to sleep.

It was a normal night, Arthur thought.

Sometimes though, even nations could be wrong.

* * *

 

Alfred had wanted to go fishing today, and that’s what brought them to the harbour.

Arthur was in the middle of telling Alfred about the glories of the sea and the adventures the water brings when it happened.

“Hey Artie?” Alfred asked, eyes focused on the horizon.

“What is it Alfred?” Arthur responded.

“Do you think the fish would survive in a giant pot of tea?” he asked, provoking a bout of laughter from Arthur.

“I don’t think they would, Alfred,” he laughed.

“No?” He frowned. “Would they leave if we told them they’d drown in tea, then?”

“Alfred, love, I don’t think the fish understand our tongue.”

Alfred was tearing up then.

“But Artie!” he whined. “I don’t want to hurt the fish! I don’t want them to hate me too!”

Arthur stopped laughing then.

“Oh love,” he whispered. “You don’t have to worry about that. The harbour isn’t made of tea, and no one in their right mind would hate you.”

“Promise, Artie? Promise you won’t hate me if I make the harbour into tea?”

Arthur laughed.

“I could never hate you Alfred,” he smiled. “Even if you turned the ocean into tea.”

They left Boston that night.

* * *

 

The final time this occurred was a little more abrupt.

They were in his study when it happened, and Alfred was trying to distract himself with one of the many trinkets Arthur returned with from overseas. The boy was fascinated with the stuff, always asking about his adventures, and eternally curious.

Arthur had taken to looking through some important paperwork when Alfred had diverted his attention to Arthur’s ink well and the feathered quill pen. Without a seconds hesitation Alfred snatched the quill and began applying the ink to the top of his hand.

“Alfred that ink isn’t going to come out very easily.”

Arthur’s comment was ignored.

Interest peaked, Arthur then asked, “Alfred? What are you drawing?”

And still, Alfred didn’t respond.

Recognizing that his charge had no intention of responding, Arthur then decided to take a peak himself. His observation was simple; upon his hand, inscribed in ink, Alfred had drawn a simple ring of 13 stars.

“Thirteen stars?” Arthur questioned.

Not a moment after the words left his mouth Alfred’s head shot up and he sent Arthur a look that could only be described as wary.

“No,” Alfred whispered, “They’re not stars. They are _my_ people. And when they bear this symbol they will _hate_ you. And so will I. And so will you.”

About to respond, Arthur was interrupted.

“Arthur? Can we leave? I don’t like your stuffy old study and,” Alfred paused. “Hey, when did I draw stars on my hand?”

Arthur was dumfounded,

“Yeah?” he frowned. “Let’s, go…uhhh…wash your hands first okay? Then we can…go play with your brother. Sound good?”

And though he tried, Arthur was unable to wash the stars off that night. Or the night after, but within a few days they had faded.

And within months, the promise of betrayal was forgotten for a little while more.

The feeling of dread, however, was something that he couldn’t shake.

* * *

 

It wasn’t until the 18th century that Arthur was able to connect those three memories to one common event. It wasn’t until the 18th century that he finally understood- the tea, the stars, the hate- but it was too late. If he had recognized it sooner, maybe things would have been different.

It was exactly as Alfred had warned; the harbour did in fact house a tea party, the bloody stars adorned Alfred’s _new_ flag as a symbol of _Alfred’s_ people and ultimately Arthur was abandoned to his own devices, hating himself for what he lost.

England was forced to relinquish control of America in 1783. Allowing the colony to become a country. However, there was only one thing that Arthur cared about, out of all the fighting and all the hate, and that was the fact that Arthur lost Alfred that century. 

Arthur will tell you that it was in 1783 that England was left behind; hurting, tired and crying in the mud. He’ll tell you how he was angry, how he hated and how he felt betrayed. What he doesn’t tell you is that, despite the pain America’s betrayal caused England, Arthur was proud.

Arthur was proud of America for taking what he wanted, because at that point, Arthur could care less about the politics between America and England the nations.

It no longer mattered that America wasn’t his to control.

Instead, the only thing that mattered was that war had changed the way Arthur looked at Alfred. He could no longer see Alfred as his ward, he could no longer view Alfred as his little brother, and he could no longer look at Alfred as a child. Alfred had grown into a fine young man and Arthur was left there, that unfortunate day, with the grim understanding that time would eventually be able to heal all wounds.

 


End file.
